


even in the dark, I find my way to you

by evenmyneck (stopmopingstarthoping)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Canon Universe, Confessions, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 06:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/evenmyneck
Summary: Sylvain feels freer in the dark to talk about things he doesn't bring up in the harsh light.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	even in the dark, I find my way to you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lunchtop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunchtop/gifts).



It's dark, and it's cold. Even the brilliant spray of stars out here can't shine through into their little tent, and the moon is hidden behind billowing clouds. It’s cold enough that the grass sticks together in a light frost before the sun hits it, and once the sun disappears, they can usually see the mist of their breath in the tent.

Usually. Not now. Now it’s just blackness; the meager firelights and lanterns put out long ago in favor of rest, in favor of moving on, of keeping all of them standing long enough, alert enough to win what feels like a hopeless battle in the middle of a hopeless war.

It's quiet, too, and for some reason that makes it easier for Sylvain to open his stupid mouth. He's not stopped by a scowl, or frozen in place by a tumble of dark hair against an angled jaw, or the intense umber gaze that knows him too well. 

Nope, here it's just a couple of bedrolls shoved together, the warmth radiating off the body next to him that he is absolutely not noticing, and...Felix. But a sleepy, relaxed Felix, not one who's about to rip his head off or pretend to. He's curled up with his back to Sylvain, silky hair tumbling over itself even in the short-slashed hairstyle he’s got now, brushing Sylvain’s bare shoulder. Instead of reaching out to touch it, Sylvain folds his arms under his head and stares up at nothing. He thinks about camping trips when they were little, about Felix waking up and crying because it was too dark even to see his own hand in front of his face, about Sylvain hugging him and drying his tears.

When was the last time Felix cried?

"Hey. Fe?"

"Mmm." Felix is too tired to even bitch about the nickname, apparently. 

"Do you ever think about—" The impulse fades as quickly as it rose, and Sylvain is left with nothing but a dry mouth and a few words that winked out into the darkness. 

"Think about what." Even though it's a question, it's delivered in a flat tone that for some reason still makes Sylvain smile into the darkness. It's so indelibly  _ Felix _ .

Felix turns over, and he's misjudged the distance between him and Sylvain. He must have, because he's pressed - cuddled? - right against Sylvain's side. Sylvain just closes his eyes and keeps still, enjoying the closeness and waiting for Felix to scoot back and adjust. 

Felix doesn't move away. 

"Think about  _ what _ , Vain?"

Felix is close enough that his voice rumbles against Sylvain The nickname is soft off his lips; Sylvain can picture Felix's teeth grazing his lower lip on the V, and he swallows, hard. He licks his lips, clears his throat. 

"About when we were kids. Remember when I kissed you behind the woodpile?"

There's a long silence, and Sylvain can hear his own heartbeat in his ears.

"I remember." Felix’s voice is even: not quiet, not loud, but that’s it. 

Sylvain doesn't say anything for a while.

This was stupid. He’s loved Felix too long to just toss this off like this, and he looks away like Felix can see him, away from the warmth of him and into the nothingness of the tent. Sylvain deserves what he gets, as usual, and this disappointment won’t be a surprise, but it doesn't mean it won’t sting, either.

He’s pulled back out of his own thoughts by a little annoyed noise from Felix. "I remember our promise, too." Felix digs the heel of his hand into the bandages wrapping Sylvain's chest, and he gasps.

"Ow. Dick." He shoves Felix's hand off his injury, but doesn't push him away, and Felix still doesn't go. Sylvain dangles his hand for a moment, then curls it around Felix's back. It's a light touch; it almost isn't there; it's the type of touch Sylvain would give a skittish animal or one he thought had a risk of biting him if he got too near. 

Felix just relaxes under his hand, and without even thinking about it, really, Sylvain moves his palm in idle circles across Felix's back. 

His next words are muffled into Sylvain's shoulder. Sylvain can feel the line of Felix’s cheekbone resting on his shoulder muscle, and his lips move over Sylvain’s collarbone as he talks. 

"Stop getting hurt."

Sylvain laughs, and it's a big enough laugh that it hurts again. He feels the sharp edge rasping in his laugh and he wonders if Felix hears it too. 

"Funny thing to say when we're in the middle of a war."

Felix growls and burrows closer, but lifts his head to be heard clearly. "You know what I mean. Stop getting  _ this _ hurt. Start taking yourself seriously."

Sylvain's hand stills, resting lightly on the fabric between his palm and the heat of Felix's back. 

"Or what." Everything that would have made the words teasing and light has bled out of them, and they fall, heavy and toneless, in the night. Sylvain would take them back again, would scoop them up with the earlier words that had tumbled out, if only he could see where they'd fallen in the darkness. 

Maybe it's easier for Felix, too, in the near-pitch-black of the night, because suddenly he's hovering above Sylvain's face.

"Idiot."

Sylvain's laugh is muffled by Felix's lips, crashing into his own artlessly, defiantly. He makes the smallest surprised noise, before gently, reverently, holding Felix’s face in his hands and kissing him back.

Felix is kissing  _ him _ . Sylvain. The second Gautier son, the one who…Sylvain's usual litany of rotten thoughts about himself melts away, because Felix knows exactly who he is, down to his bones, and chose to kiss him anyway.

Felix's lips are warm, and they feel like they're sealing up the deep wounds Sylvain carries around; the self-inflicted ones. Sylvain's breath catches in his throat as he deepens the kiss slowly, carefully. 

He's done this so many times— countless—and yet it's never been so precious, so important. Felix opens up to him like he's been waiting for this; it's not impatient but it is eager, so Sylvain keeps going. The soft, tentative press of Felix's tongue sends a shock down Sylvain's spine. Felix is never tentative about anything, and it feels like an answer to Sylvain's awkward, stilted conversation in the dark.

Sylvain's hand traces down from Felix's jaw to the column of his neck, and rests there. He still can’t see anything in the dark, but it doesn’t matter. He's imagined this so many times and it's perfect. Their bodies fit together, warm and wanting and  _ alive,  _ and Sylvain's hands thread reverently through sleek strands. 

Felix pulls back, just slightly, and finally answers Sylvain's earlier question in a low murmur. It’s as close to teasing as Sylvain’s ever heard him.

"Or I won't do that again. Even hidden by a woodpile."

The smile against Sylvain's lips is all the dearer for its reluctance; Sylvain knows he will remember the feel of it for a long, long time, and both of Sylvain's arms curl around Felix to hold him close. A sound that’s somewhere between satisfied and annoyed huffs out of Felix’s chest, and Sylvain smiles back.

Sylvain’s eyes still haven’t adjusted much to see more than dim shapes in the night, but it doesn’t matter. He knows the stars are there. He doesn’t have to look. Hope swells, buoyant and tingling, in his chest. 

Felix’s fingers thread through his, and they fall asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> For our little exchange, Olive, I love your Sylvain and enjoyed writing this for you so much! <3


End file.
